Reciprocity
by None the Wiser
Summary: Emily/OC. Case file. A serial rapist is out looking for blood. Rating may change later on.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything that already exists within the world of Criminal Minds.

**Author's Note: **This has been my first fic after a very extended hiatus, so please be nice and leave reviews :D If same-sex relationships offend you, then go away…kthanksbai!!!

_**Reciprocity**_

_By: None The Wiser _

Around the wee hours of a very early Saturday morning in Madison, Wisconsin, two women chat as they walk from the parking lot to their apartment complex. One Caucasian woman has blonde, curly hair, pale green eyes and an adorable personality about her. Her friend is a cute Latina, with long, dark brown hair, brown eyes, with exceedingly tough characteristics. They have just returned from a night on the town and they're making their way back home to reality.

"Ai, Dios Mio, chika, did you not notice him hitting on you the whole night?" the Latina woman asked of her friend.

The other woman chuckled, embarrassed that her friend would continue to rant about a guy with whom she had been conversing for the better part of the evening. "Come on, Gabi, we were just talking. Why would think he had any interest in me?"

Gabi gasped. "Ai, chika, don't say things like that! You're smart, nice, incredibly sexy…why wouldn't a guy want somebody like you?"

"Oh, shut up. You know, one day you're gonna get in trouble for sweet-talking someone," the woman pointed out to her friend.

"Sal, baby, I don't get into trouble, I make it with my bare hands," Gabi told her as she pressed the button for the third and fourth floor.

"Yeah, well, you just better be careful before your hand-made trouble sculpture starts laughing manically and attacks you," Sally warned Gabi, who began to giggle.

"Hey, you know what they say about those laughing sculptures?"

"Nuh uh, what's that?"

" 'When your art comes to life, it's a good thing.' "

"Honey, when _your_ art comes to life, it's the apocalypse. Therefore, I think they would say 'flee.'"

"Ouch! Girl, you know just how to hurt me, don't cha?"

"Every time, my dear. I'll see you in the morning, Gab" she waved to her as she stepped off of the elevator.

"G'night, sweetie. Sleep well."

Sally turned the corner and walked down the hallway towards apartment 3F. Upon reaching the door to her home, she noticed that it was slightly ajar. But, because of fear and therefore was not thinking rationally, Sally did not reach for her cell phone to dial 9-1-1; instead, she pushed the door open and looked inside to discover that her home had been ransacked.

Panicking and beginning to breathe heavily, she ran around her apartment searching for her house phone. Finally arriving in her room, she found it on her bedside table. However, she did not go lift it from the receiver and dial for the authorities; most likely due to the fact that on the wall above the headboard of her bed the word 'payback' was written in black spray paint.

And it was only after she saw that when she felt something cover her nose and mouth. She struggled for a bit, but it was all for naught when she felt herself falling into darkness, and finally landing there.

*****

Monday morning in Quantico, Virginia, and Special Agents Derek Morgan and Dr. Spencer Reid of the Behavioral Analysis Unit in the Federal Bureau of Investigation were playing a very intriguing round of word association while Special Agents Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, and Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia were watching and listening, exceedingly interested.

"Nothing," Morgan continued.

"Nirvana," Reid responded.

"Grunge."

"Laundry."

"Clean."

"House."

"Doctor."

"Kevorkian."

"Mercy."

"Hospital."

"Red."

"Underwear," and that was the straw that broke the camel's back, because after Reid's very undignified response, everyone burst into laughter.

"Seriously, that's what you think of when you hear 'red?'" Morgan asked.

"Yes," Reid said.

"Dude…underwear?"

"Yes. Statistically, red is one of the most purchased colors of underwear, along with black, white, rainbow and several forms of pink."

"Several forms of pink? What kind of underwear are you talking about?" Agent Prentiss demanded to know. "I don't think that many men like to wear pink briefs."

"Oh, on the contrary, my dear Emily, I think you'd be surprised by what some men wear," Garcia commented.

"Really?" Emily asked, an eyebrow raised. "Would you care to share your particular insight?"

Garcia gasped. "Why, Agent Prentiss, surely you know a girl would never kiss and tell."

"Thank God," Morgan said, while the others laughed.

It was at this particular moment that Agent Morgan noticed a woman, in her late 20s to her early 30s, enter the office. She was about 5'6", quite attractive looking, with long, strawberry brown hair, pale complexion and golden brown eyes. She appeared to be a civilian, due to the fact that she was wearing tight jeans and a long-sleeved green sweater. She seemed tense, afraid even, and looked as if she were searching for someone.

"Who's that?" Morgan wondered aloud.

The rest of the team responded by looking in the direction in which Morgan was observing the young woman. Most of the team answered with shrugging shoulders and raised eyebrows, having no idea who this woman was, where she came from or why she was in FBI headquarters.

Emily Prentiss, however, had quite a different reaction. Her smile lit up her face like a Christmas tree on the eve of December 24th, and her whole demeanor seemed to glow. Even knowing the reason why the woman was here could not possibly be good, did not mean that it was never a bad thing to see her. She rose from her desk chair and proceeded to make her way towards the new person.

"Aviva!" she called, getting the other woman's attention. Aviva looked towards her and sighed in relief; just knowing that Emily was in her presence made her feel a whole world of better. She felt herself being embraced, lifted, and spun in circles before returning to the ground as well as Emily's hug.

The team looked on in shock; never had they ever witnessed Agent Prentiss act in such a manner, and they wondered what it was about this woman that made her do so. Also their hug had lasted longer than a normal greeting hug, which made the other agents raise their eyebrows in confusion.

Meanwhile, Emily and Aviva continued their hug, content to just be there. Though, after a while, Prentiss could sense the tension and distress return to Aviva, and released her from the hug to cup her chin and look at her face.

"Sweetie, what are you doing here?" Emily asked, both happy and worried.

"What, I can't come and visit on occasion?" Aviva questioned, shrugging her shoulders.

"Well, of course you can, unless I'm not here. Though, we both know you don't and that's not the reason why you're here," Emily pointed out.

Aviva sighed. "Touché," she said, and her entire attitude changed. Just a moment ago she was excited, relived and happy; now, however, she was stressed and anxious, and Emily could tell that she hadn't slept very well.

Emily lowered her voice, so that people surrounding wouldn't intrude on their conversation. "Baby, what's going on?"

Aviva paused for a moment before speaking. "I need your help."

As if she wasn't already worried, Emily began to do so even more. "Honey…talk to me, tell me what you need. What's happening?"

Aviva took a deep breath. "Someone's gonna kill me."


	2. Act I

**Disclaimer:** See previous chapter

**Author's Note:** So, I really dislike it when people read my stories and don't leave a review, so would y'all pretty, pretty please review????? With chocolate syrup and M&M's on top???? Pweeeeeeeeeez????...Slight language and violence in this chapter, and, again, if same-sex relationships offend you in some strange way, go 'way. Thank you.

**Reciprocity—Act I**

_By: None the Wiser_

"_One man cannot hold another man down in the ditch without remaining down in the ditch with him." –Booker T. Washington_

Aviva sat in the BAU conference room with Agent Prentiss directly across from her, holding her hands tightly, prepared to listen to the tale that Aviva was about to tell.

"I'm not quite sure where to start," Aviva told Emily.

Emily squeezed her hand. "Just start from the beginning," she calmly said. "Why do you think this guy wants to kill you?"

Aviva breathed deeply before starting her story. "My first semester junior year at Salisbury, midterm exams were just finishing so everyone was celebrating. I wasn't, I still had a couple, and I didn't really party at all so I was spending most of my time at the library, studying. One night, I was walking back to my dorm, and I didn't think to bring a friend with me or anything; I guess I figured people were not going to be out or still had exams. And it was Salisbury, so figured that it would be okay. Stupid, right?"

"No, baby," Emily told her interlocking her fingers. "You're not stupid, you know that."

Aviva chuckled, though no trace of humor reached her features. "That night I was," she began again, the image of her younger self, carrying a knapsack over her right shoulder, walking in the dead of evening. "I could feel someone's presence behind me, but I thought it was just the wind or the lighting playing tricks on me."

The motion picture in her mind continued, as she remembered the man approach her rear and tackle her. "He grabbed me and took me down. I fought back as hard as I could, but he was bigger, and extremely athletic." The scene continued to play in her head, recalling how he flipped her over and proceeded to beat the crap out of her. "He kept hitting me. I couldn't breathe. I was in so much pain and I remember thinking that maybe he had broken something, but at that point I didn't care; I knew what he was going to do to me, and pain didn't really matter compared to that."

Frame by frame, the video continued to roll, with the man tearing at her clothes, attempting to reveal her skin. "He ripped my clothes, trying to undress me. I could feel him leaning over me, restraining me, and at that point I just gave up.

"But then something happened," she continued as she recollected the moment the man got distracted and looked up. "We both heard something. I don't know what it was, but that wasn't important; I found my opening. I hit him in the nose and he got off of me. I stood up as quickly as I could. I know I should have just run away, but I was actually quite pissed off at what he did to me. So I kicked him…a lot…anywhere I could, as hard as I could; I feel like I was quite lucky that no one saw me."

Her story carried on, the pictures in her mind still very vivid. "I grabbed my backpack and ran as fast as I possibly could."

She was brought back to the present when she noticed the dam of tears beginning to well in the other woman's eyes. "I know I should have done something, called the police and reported it or gone to the hospital or something, but all I could do was get in the shower and stay there."

Aviva looked at Emily, and noticed the pure devastation and heartache in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Em," she told her.

Emily sniffled and wiped her eyes before answering her. "Why are you sorry? And don't you dare say anything like 'because it's my fault.' It's not, and you know it so you better not blame yourself."

"I know that now," Aviva said. "For a long time I blamed myself for what he did, but I know it's not true."

Emily inhaled and exhaled before asking another question. "And you think this guys after you?" Aviva nodded. "Why? It's been so long since it happened? Why would he come back now?"

"I don't know," Aviva stated. "I just know that he had done it to a lot of other girls; I went to a crisis center on campus and I heard some of them talking, saying that a 'Harry Potter on steroids' got to them to. I met them, talked to them, learned their names…everything. I know that year he raped at least 6 other girls, and there were probably more, knowing that some never reported it…like me."

Emily began stroking the back of the other woman's hands, trying to ease the pain of remembering such an ordeal. "Do you know what happened to him? Or the other women he hurt?"

Aviva sighed. "No. I didn't want to remember anything about that night, so I just went about my business as usual. I didn't really talk to the other girls, I never learned the guy's name, I just wanted to move on and get back to my life."

Emily nodded. "It's okay," she reassured her. "It's perfectly understandable that you would want to get rid of that part of you."

Aviva squeezed Emily's hand and began to pet it with the other. "Thank you for listening, Em."

"Anything for you, sweetheart," she told her, returning the pressure on her hand. "So what makes you think he's coming after you?"

She paused for a moment before speaking again. "Last night, I was curious as to how they were all doing; you know, seeing if they got passed it, became successful or famous or both, I guess. I searched around online to see if I could find them; Facebook, Google, MySpace, stuff like that…three of them were murdered, and one of them went missing two days ago."

Emily looked at her in shock; she knew she wouldn't like what Aviva was going to say, and that it would freak her out, but by the sound of it, this was going to get a lot worse.

"Something's happening, Em, and we're all in the middle of it."

*****

Even though it was daylight, and a sliver of sunshine seeped through each of the blinds from the window, it was dark. Sally sat on the mattress that lay on the ground, only one blanket and pillow decorating it. She was shackled, bound by chains on her wrists and ankles. It was cold and bare, with nothing but the aforementioned mattress and a giant bucket. She curled up into herself, to get any semblance of warmth to circulate through her body.

This wasn't fair. She had already been a victim once…she did not want to go through this again. All she wanted was to go home, eat a freshly cooked dinner, take a hot bath, cuddle on the couch with her adorable little kitten, Poseidon, and go to bed.

Maybe…maybe this was just a dream. Yeah, that was it. Subconsciously, she knew she had never really gotten over what happened to her, and her brain was making her think about it again, telling her that she needed to talk to someone about the attack.

She lost her hopeful train of thought when she heard a door open, and footsteps walk down a staircase. Dammit! He was coming back again; who knows what the hell he would do to her now.

She saw his shadowed profile finally enter her penitentiary-resembling domain. He paused at the bottom of the steps for a moment before turning towards her and approaching her.

Her breathing quickened, becoming heavy. This was it, she thought as she noticed the sudden wink from a metallic blade, taunting her. These were her last moments; the final thing she would see on this earth was this crazed being, penetrating her body with a sharpened metal object.

That thought made her sad; why did this have to be the last picture implemented into her vision? Why couldn't it be the image of a great big family with kids, grandkids, friends, famous people and puppies? And it really would have been nice to talk to her mother one last time. And her sister. And Gabi. And that nice lady next door who bakes really delicious cakes. Sally really didn't want to die.

That last thought hit her hard and she began to beg, plead, and scream for her life to be spared. At the moment all she could think about was how much she didn't want her life to end and how she wished he would just go away.

Unfortunately, this man had no intention of quitting his task. He had to do this, for this woman must pay for what she did. She ruined his life, and because of that, he would ruin hers.

"Payback's a bitch," he told her before he lifted the dagger up over his head and it pierced her body, making her shriek from the pain.

*****

Agent Prentiss opened the door to Garcia's realm of cyber genius. The Technical Analyst was sitting in one of the chairs, most likely doing something for which any regular, everyday civilian would get arrested and sent to prison. Penelope looked up at her and greeted her with a smile. "Hello, dearest Emily, how lovely it is of you to grace yourself with my omnipotent and adorable presence."

"Hey, Garcia," Emily said. Penelope noticed something different about her; she seemed to be slightly paler and anxious, but unusually determined. "Will you do me a favor, please?"

"What's wrong, honey?" Garcia asked, her voiced sounding concerned. "Is this about that woman that was here earlier?"

Sudden dear in the headlights. Emily's eyes went wide for a moment and then dropped in what appeared to be guilt, but Garcia brushed that thought aside when Emily pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket. "Sort of," Emily began. "I need you to look up these names for me, and find out anything you can about what happened to them," she continued as she handed the lined, yellow sheet to Garcia.

" 'What happened to them?' What do you mean 'what happened to them?' What's going on? Is your friend in trouble? Does she know something about that case you guys are working on? Will she—"

"Garcia!" Prentiss interrupted, holding her hands out in front of her. "Please, calm down. Truth is, I don't really know what's going on with Aviva, or with those women, but I need to know so I can help her, and possibly several more people in the process."

Penelope stared at her unwavering friend's facial features, and decided that this must be important to her. And if it was important to Emily, than it was important to her, too. "Sure thing, gorgeous," she said as she took the paper and placed it next to the computer she was using…and then realized that she had gotten a name. "Wait…Aviva?"

Emily paused. "Yeah, what about her?"

"That's her name?" Penelope wondered.

"Yeah. So? What's wrong with that?" Emily asked raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing. It's just very unusual…and very pretty. What's her full name?" Garcia questioned, hoping and desperately praying that asking wasn't too obvious.

Emily's brows went slightly higher at her interesting and seemingly irrelevant query. "Aviva Celeste Theodorou. Why?"

Garcia shrugged, appearing innocent and nonchalant. "No reason. Just curious. Anyway, I'll get back to you with that info ASAP."

"Thanks, Garcia," Prentiss said as she began to turn and leave the room.

"No problem, hon," Garcia returned, and after Emily had closed the door, she quickly spun around in her chair and scribbled 'Aviva Celeste Theodorou' on the list of names that Agent Prentiss had given her. "And thank you for giving me something interesting to look up. Oh, Aviva Celeste Theodorou, I feel bad for you, because I will know more about you than dear Agent Prentiss does right now within a matter of seconds," she said manically, typing rapidly on her keyboard, looking and hacking into everything imaginable. "Just you wait, my precious. Just you wait."

*****

Agent Prentiss quickly walked back to the conference room and entered it, Aviva looking around nervously, though also intrigued. This was where her darling Emily worked, and the more she knew about her was always a good thing in the eyes of Aviva.

She turned to face the Special Agent and approached her somewhat cautiously. "So this is where all you big, bad FBI agents do your thing, huh? Pretty intense."

"Some might think so," Emily told her. "But this is where all the boring stuff happens; all the action pretty much goes on elsewhere."

"Is that so?" Aviva wondered.

"Cross my heart," Prentiss promised, performing said action with her right index finger. "I spoke with our Technical Analyst; as soon as she gets the information regarding those other women, we'll know what to do. Believe me, she's pretty fast; this will all be over with soon, I promise."

Aviva swallowed. "Thank you. I know you're really busy, but I know you'll do everything you can."

"That's right, I will; you count on it." Emily swore to her, and suddenly the atmosphere changed. No longer was it business-like and professional; it had become intimate and tender. "Don't you have class today?" she asked, taking a hand and entwining fingers.

"I called in a substitute, taking a personal day. Boss thinks it was well deserved, too; I haven't had a day to myself for a while," she began, reveling in the feel of Emily's hand within hers. "I'm gonna go home, take a shower and just veg the rest of the day…try not to think about what happened to them, or what might happen to me."

"That's good," Emily said. "Relaxation will definitely help during a time like this."

Aviva nodded. "Thanks again."

Prentiss looked out the window to see if anyone was looking in their direction, and upon noticing there wasn't, cupped Aviva's cheek and briefly kissed her on the lips. "I need to leave soon," she mentioned, stroking her cheek with her thumb, their faces but centimeters apart.

"I know," Aviva said.

Emily placed her forehead against Aviva's. "Do me a favor and please, please be careful. You see anything suspicious, or if you're feeling uncomfortable and need someone to talk to, you call me on the spot, okay?"

"Yeah," Aviva replied. "Thank you, love."

"Anytime, darling," Emily responded, giving her one last peck on the lips before Aviva left the conference room.

*****

The BAU gathered together around one of the giant, black, tinted SUVs, sporting navy Kevlar vests declaring them to be FBI in white lettering. Agent Hotchner was giving the team instruction on how they should surround and enter the ranch, what they should do following, and what was the most likely scenario that would occur.

"Good luck," he said as he concluded his orders. "You're going to need it."

The team nodded as they dispersed into different directions, surrounding the tiny house's entrances. SWAT, too, was present, waiting for the command to enter the little abode. Morgan and Rossi were at the main entrance of the house, while Reid, Prentiss, JJ and Hotchner went around towards the back and sides. Morgan banged on the door, attempting to get the attention of anyone inside.

"Joseph Landry, FBI, open the door!" he shouted. Upon getting no response after a few moments, he moved out of the way for SWAT to smash the door open with a battering ram. After the door practically leapt off its hinges, FBI and the local police entered first before SWAT followed. Guns held out in front of them, all members of law enforcement searched the house, declaring loudly when an area appeared to be clear of all human forms.

Morgan and Rossi entered another room, one that represented a study of some sort. A man, one that they both recognized as Joseph Landry, was calmly sitting at a desk and typing away at his computer. He never even turned around when he heard the two men enter the area.

"Joseph Landry, put your hands in the air!" Morgan shouted at him, secretly hoping that he would just comply and not say anything cryptic or creepy.

The dark-haired man continued to write on his desktop, as if there weren't members of law enforcement barging into his place and searching for him with loaded firearms.

"Joseph Landry, I need you to stand up slowly and put your hands in the air, now!" Morgan demanded again, thinking about how much they really didn't have time for this bullshit.

The suspect finally conceded by gradually rising from the chair and lifting his arms above his body in surrender. Morgan approached him cautiously, and once he was sure that Landry wasn't going to pull a weapon on him, he grabbed the other man's wrists and put them behind his back, fastening handcuffs on them.

"You don't have to be so vicious," Landry told him, his voice eerie and sinister. "As you see, I'm cooperating, and I didn't do anything that you wouldn't do."

"Wanna bet?" Morgan asked as he led Joseph Landry out of the room.

*****

The agents of the BAU reentered their office, relieved that this recent case had finally been brought to a close. All that was left was an easy trial, filled with proof that Joseph Landry had committed the crimes and the profile that led them to him.

"Glad that's over," Morgan said as they conglomerated around their cubicles. "That guy was a real piece of work, you noticed that, right?"

"Aren't they all?" Emily asked as she sat down at her desk. "I mean, it takes a lot to create who they are, ya know?"

"Yeah, I guess," Morgan admitted.

"Well, I'm just glad we caught him; and after dealing with that we can finally get some easy, tedious stuff done and go home," JJ said.

"Um, actually," Garcia began, walking towards the rest of the team with multiple files gathered in her arms. "I do believe that you are incorrect, my lovely."

The group internally groaned, praying that she didn't mean what they thought she was implying. "What do you mean, Garcia?" Morgan wondered.

"Well, um…JJ, I really don't mean to temporarily take over your position or anything, but I think we really need to take this one and we need to take this one now before more bad things happen to good and violated people."

"What's going on?" JJ questioned, curious as to why Garcia would say that her own working status had been momentarily abducted.

"I'm going to go tell you about it in the briefing room, but all I can tell you right this second is that I 'm pretty sure this is not going to stop until the this bastard finishes his job."


End file.
